


Conversations About Caro

by thosejetpackblues



Category: Victoria (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Vicbourne
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-03-13
Packaged: 2018-10-03 23:06:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10260968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thosejetpackblues/pseuds/thosejetpackblues
Summary: Victoria becomes curious about Lord M's past with his deceased wife.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Follow my tumblr (thosejetpackblues) if you would like to give constructive feedback, I am only a high school student so I know my writing isn't the best but I am willing to improve. Also, if you'd like, please message me because I am dying to discuss Vicbourne and/or Caro/Lord M.

The Queen and her Lord M were strolling about the gardens of Brocket Hall. He thought that she enjoyed it at his home, judging by the way her face lit up whenever he would tell her the history of a painting or how he took care of a plant whenever she asked. Of course, she wasn’t supposed to be there nearly as much as she was. He knew of her family’s suspicions, and, if things ever got out of hand, he would try harder to stop these lovely visits from occurring so frequently. But, thankfully, nothing had gotten so hard to stop up to that point.

The garden was well kept, something William Melbourne was proud of. Ever since he had become the queen’s private secretary, he had been away from home a great deal more than he used to be. His (few) servants were happy to help, though. They knew how happy caring for the garden made him. There was a small pathway winding through the small patches of grass, some areas shaded by the trees, others not. 

“This one is beautiful! What is it called?” Victoria had questioned, kneeling down to get a better look at the plant. She was gazing up at him as if he were a merciful God and she, a sinner. The flower was a pure white, and the flower buds, all lined up on the stem, were facing the ground. They reminded the girl of bells.

“It is called a lily of the valley, I believe,” Lord Melbourne had responded. “It’s supposed to symbolize purity. Some believe that when it blooms, happiness is said to follow. Lily of the valley was always one of Caro’s favorites.”

After taking a few seconds of realizing what he just said, Victoria tore her stare away from the flower and to the man in front of her. His features had softened, his eyes looking off into space, remembering what once was. 

“What was she like?” She said softly, standing up from her crouched position. The air grew tenser by the second. He gave a brief, sad smile, before taking a few steps and sitting on a bench that had been there for years. Her majesty followed, and when she sat down, she paid full attention to him. Her body even leaned towards him, subconsciously or not.

“She was…she was unique. I’d never met anyone like her, and I doubt I ever will again. Caro was an adventurous, impulsive being, which may explain a lot now, looking back on our life together. My brothers have told me how selfish she was, running off with that poet like she did. But, really, all she was looking for was happiness. How can I blame her for that?”

His hand was gripping the arm of the bench, tapping his fingers against it. A nervous tick, one might say. Lord Melbourne avoided her gaze, fearing that he would see his dead wife in her eyes. It wouldn’t be the first time. The two were similar. Both were dignified, headstrong, and charming. Victoria reminded him of Caro when she was her age. They had been married when she was seventeen, and he had the pleasure of knowing her until she passed at age forty two. 

He wondered what she would think of the queen. Would they have been friends? No, if she were alive, they still would’ve been separated, most likely. Victoria would have found out about the scandalous affair, surely, and then she would’ve hated Caroline. But based on personality alone, he had two theories on how they might have gotten along. They either would have been partners in crime together, or they would’ve been each other’s worst enemies. 

“She betrayed you, Lord M,” Victoria whispered, laying her hand upon his forearm. “Yet, you still care for her. Why?”

William didn’t expect her to understand. No, not someone as young as her. Not someone who hadn’t been in love before. It was only natural for the queen to question his feelings. He had been asked that same question again, and again, and again. Why? Truth be told, he really didn’t know either.

“You’ve never been in love before, ma’am,” he responded, making himself look at her. He immediately regretted that decision. She looked as if she might cry, which didn’t make sense to him at all. It wasn’t her spouse who had done that, it wasn’t her spouse who died. It was his. “One day you will understand.”

Victoria opened her mouth as if she wanted to say something, and then closed it again. She reminded him of Caro so much, the way she squinted her eyes when she was deep in thought. Maybe this was God’s way of telling him to stay away from her. Not only was she very, very young, and the ruler of this great country, but she was also like a ghost from the past. Maybe this was also God’s way of punishing him.

The queen didn’t know how to feel right then. She knew Lord M was troubled, but she had never really seen him like this, she didn’t know how to react. No wonder he had never gotten married again. She wanted to meet his wife of the past, she wanted to see how she spoke and what she looked like. She wanted to meet Byron, to see how he was apparently better than Melbourne, according to Caro. It was interesting how Victoria had the same fear as the man sitting beside her. He was afraid he would never meet anyone like his wife again, and the queen was afraid she’d never meet anyone like him again.

A gush of wind suddenly hit the two. Lord M stood up abruptly, gesturing for the girl to as well. She was cold; this was British wind, after all. 

“Come,” he had said. “Let’s go inside.” Victoria nodded and followed him.

She wondered if she would ever move past him. She knew that they shouldn’t be together. And even if they could, what would someone as wonderful as he want with someone as inexperienced as her? Her Majesty had been thinking about if she should confess to him about how she felt, how she didn’t care what other people thought. She wanted him and only him. She didn’t know what would plague her mind more- never knowing of what could have been, or knowing that he didn’t want her. 

Victoria thought that perhaps the next time they were at Brocket Hall, she would find out.


End file.
